“Wh-what the hell is this.”
“Feels like... they’re talking about us again this time...”
What came out of the radio
was shocking, yes—
but people only tilted their heads in confusion.
“What even is dungeonification?”
From the start,
there wasn’t a single person here
who knew what the word “dungeonification” meant.
– Explanation of dungeonification... will be given by a Legion soldier
who has experienced two dungeons, Private Jang Hongsu.
– Hello. This is Private Jang Hongsu.
At that moment,
the voice sending the broadcast changed.
Sounded like he’d switched places with the soldier next to him.
– You can think of dungeonification as a type of terraforming.
The difference is, it’s terraforming carried out by monsters, not humans.
The soldier who’d taken over went straight to answering their question,
beginning his explanation of dungeonification.
There were as many monster ecologies as there were monster species.
And among them were monsters whose ecology
simply could not adapt to Earth’s environment.
Dungeonification was
the act of those monsters rewriting Earth’s environment so they could survive.
“Rewriting the environment...”
“That’s... seriously.”
And with every word of that explanation,
the cold sweat on the listeners’ faces
only grew thicker.
“This sounds exactly like what’s happening here...”
Even they themselves hadn’t understood the abnormal weather.
But this man, Private Jang Hongsu,
was explaining that abnormal climate perfectly.
– Normally, dungeonification occurs within a small area.
At most, it might cover a single city...
However, the phenomenon now occurring in Gyeonggi Province
appears to be affecting the entire province.
We infer a single reason for this.
“...?”
– The entities carrying out that dungeonification
likely possess an extremely high level of potential—
enough to exert their influence over the whole of Gyeonggi.
“...!”
At those words,
several people muttered in disbelief.
“I-if they’re that strong,
why are they only starting to affect us now?”
And then—
as if the broadcast had anticipated that question,
the radio continued.
– However, given that an entity capable of exerting such a wide influence
has only recently begun to fully manifest its strength,
it is highly probable that it had been in a weakened state
until not long ago—too weak to create a dungeon.
“!”
Dungeonification required a massive amount of power.
If the entity driving the current dungeonification
had indeed been weakened until recently,
it made sense that dungeonification
had not been proceeding properly.
– To explain the basis of this conclusion...
in our recent observations,
we have confirmed that the rate of temperature drop
has been gradually accelerating.
This suggests they are slowly recovering their strength
and are now proceeding with full-scale dungeonification.
We have concluded this to be the cause of the abnormal climate in Gyeonggi.
Silence began to spread among the listeners.
– Even a slight drop in average temperature
creates significant change in an environment.
However, as the residents of Gyeonggi awakened
and their overall level rose,
they likely became desensitized to such changes.
It is extremely difficult to detect this kind of shift from inside,
rather than from outside.
So the probability is high that the residents
failed to notice these changes.
The heads of each Branch as well
stared at the radio with hardened faces,
their expressions grave.
– The problem comes after this dungeonification is complete.
“...?”
– Right now, Gyeonggi Province may look
as if it’s simply growing colder...
But if dungeonification completes,
that region will become an environment
akin to the monsters’ homeworld.
In most cases, that environment will be
extremely disadvantageous to humans,
and in some cases, humans may not even be able to breathe.
And in Gyeonggi’s current case...
As the voice from the radio continued,
people swallowed hard.
– We judge that the rate of encroachment is very high,
with little time remaining until dungeonification completes.
“...!”
The humans gathered from each Branch—
horror spread across their faces.
“T-that bad?”
“Still... so long as we stay inside the Wall,
we can hold out, can’t we...?”
A few of them tried to convince themselves
that the Legion’s radio was exaggerating a bit,
that their own situation
couldn’t really be as bad as that.
But—
– According to what our Legion has determined,
the temperature in Gyeonggi is rapidly falling,
and the rate of that drop is accelerating with time.
At this pace, in one month...
two months at the latest,
it will become an environment
where not only ordinary humans,
but even Awakeners will find survival difficult.
The words from the radio
smashed those complacent thoughts to pieces.
“...Good god.”
On people’s faces,
a dark shadow of despair settled.
– In truth, our Legion struggled greatly
over whether to announce this through the radio at all.
We feared that delivering this fact
would only heighten the anxiety of those
who have family in Gyeonggi.
– Nevertheless, the reason we chose to share it...
What came next
hit them even harder
than anything they’d heard so far.
– Is that we have confirmed, with certainty,
that at least Guild-scale human forces—
hundreds of people or more—remain in Gyeonggi.
“...That’s us!”
They couldn’t help but be stunned.
This was a different kind of shock
than when they’d first heard the explanation
for the abnormal climate.
That climate spread across all of Gyeonggi.
If someone could somehow observe
beyond the Wall,
then maybe they could have figured that out.
But human forces were different.
Humans operating far from the Legion in Gangwon.
And between them lay
that “Monsterland” and the “Demon Realm.”
Naturally,
they had thought it impossible
for anyone in Gangwon
to even notice their existence.
And yet...
– From what we’ve investigated...
these survivors are likely a large survivor group
formed by the alliance of at least four major factions.
For various reasons,
their strength appears to have recently diminished significantly.
“...What?”
The level of detail
was absurd.
“T-they know that much?”
“What kind of intel network is that...
This is like they actually came to Gyeonggi and scouted it.”
“How the hell are they even observing Gyeonggi...”
“It only makes sense if they literally sent a person in...”
While people were reeling
from the Legion’s information-gathering ability,
the radio went on.
– Fortunately, it appears
they still retain some remaining strength.
– So to the survivors in Gyeonggi, we say this.
– Since the source of this abnormal climate
is steadily regaining its strength,
the longer time drags on,
the stronger the enemy will become.
So we advise you to find that source
as quickly as possible.
Even if you cannot fully resolve it,
you must at least suppress its power.
– If you fail to do so...
At the final words that came over the speaker,
no one could say anything.
– When the Wall opens—
– Our Legion... will undertake
our third dungeon raid.
****
“......”
“......”
Once the radio ended,
no one spoke for a long time.
Even the general who had held
the strongest say in the meeting the previous day—
even Jo Beomseok had his head bowed,
deep in thought.
“...So this cold is dungeonification.”
“To think soldiers in Gangwon
know something we ourselves didn’t...”
A few finally managed to come to their senses
and began to talk.
“What should we do?”
“Shouldn’t we follow
that Legion’s advice...?”
Right then—
“No. There’s no rule that says
we have to do that.”
A man
spoke up against that line.
“There’s no law that says
we must believe everything
those Legion people say.”
One of Eastern Branch’s leaders.
The Architect, Kim Jongdu.
“Even so, if what they said on the radio is true,
then if we stay like this
we’re all going to die, aren’t we?
This province will turn into
an alien environment.”
“Those Legion people
are observing Gyeonggi from beyond the Wall, right?”
“Well, yes.”
“No matter how excellent their observation is supposed to be,
there’s no way they understand the situation
better than we who are actually here.
They might be right
that the cold is getting stronger.
But do they even know about the Wall I built?”
He folded his arms.
“As long as we hold out inside the Wall,
we’ll endure no matter how much the temperature drops.
I’ve been through a lot of this sort of thing.
Listen to people who don’t even know the reality on the ground,
and act on it carelessly—
and you might bring an even bigger crisis on yourselves...”
“I don’t know about that.”
This time, the one who pushed back
was none other than—
“Their prediction that our Association exists in Gyeonggi
was correct. The chance that they already know
about the Wall you built is high.”
“...General?”
The man who had stood on the same side as the Architect
in the previous meeting—
Jo Beomseok.
“Don’t underestimate the capacity
of a properly organized military unit, Architect.”
He had looked shaken
while listening to the broadcast,
then sunk into long, heavy thought—
and had finally opened his mouth.
“E-even so, there is no way
they understand the situation here
better than we do on the ground, is there?”
“I’m not so sure.”
“How do you mean?
No matter how advanced their observation tech is,
they can’t possibly—”
“It’s possible
they restored their link to the satellites.”
“...Pardon?”
A satellite link.
At those words,
the Architect’s mouth snapped shut.
“Why so shocked?
They’re already a force that managed
to transmit radio signals beyond
that ‘black Wall.’”
“Well, true, but...”
“Everyone who ever worked in communications
gave up on figuring out the cause.
But they figured it out
and restored the signals.
It wouldn’t surprise me
if they’d revived every last bit
of our former civilization’s communications tech.”
“......”
“If that’s the case,
it wouldn’t be strange at all
for them to know Gyeonggi’s situation
better than we do.”
Indeed, he was right.
The Legion understood Gyeonggi
to an uncanny degree.
‘The fact that we’re one huge coalition
made from several groups joining forces,
or that our strength recently shrank dramatically
but we still have some reserves left...’
Information so detailed
it was absurd.
“To get intel that thorough,
there are only two methods.
Either you send an agent
past that black Wall to this side—
or you restore the satellite link
and observe the ground
through satellite cameras.”
“The first option
is completely impossible.”
“Then it must be the second.”
Given that they were the force
sending the radio broadcast,
the second option was vastly more likely.
Everyone gathered here
thought the same.
“Even so...
there’s no law that says
we must follow their advice.
They’re advising us, not issuing orders.”
“That’s true. But...
this is how I see it.”
“...?”
“It’s possible
that we’ve misjudged things
precisely because we were inside Gyeonggi.”
As people looked puzzled,
the old retired general
spoke in a tone heavy with self-reproach.
“The Chair already disappeared
after going to investigate the source.
We... no, I
may have been so afraid of that fact
that I unconsciously took a defensive posture.
That’s what I’ve been thinking.”
“......”
“Meanwhile, the Legion—
with their perfect outsider’s perspective—
has no such fear.
So they were able to point out, calmly and clearly,
the fact that we have to investigate that source.”
“General, don’t tell me you mean...”
“Mm. I’m sorry to say this
after speaking differently yesterday, but...”
The Architect trailed off with a “surely not,”
but he was right.
“I think it’s best
that we listen carefully
to the Legion’s opinion.”
And—
as I listened to that,
I thought to myself:
There it is.
****
Obviously,
that radio broadcast had gone out
from the Legion at my request.
‘Cutting it close, but looks like they made it in time.’
From the start,
leaving the vampires in the Demon Realm
had been for this reason as well.
I’d already expected, before crossing the Wall,
that [Guild Message] would get blocked.
Naturally, I needed a workaround.
And this was it.
‘The Legion hides messages for me in the radio broadcasts...
and I send messages to the Legion
through the vampires stationed at the Wall.’
With that,
even without [Guild Message],
communication between us
was possible—if a bit cumbersome.
Through that,
I could issue orders like this.
That said...
‘All I told the Legion
was to advise Gyeonggi
to investigate the situation and source of the cold—
and to have Private Jang Hongsu be the one to announce it.’
I’d never expected
to hear something like dungeonification.
Still, I could roughly follow the logic.
‘The Legion has plenty of people
smarter than I am.’
From their perspective,
they’d judged that what was happening in Gyeonggi
was close to dungeonification.
‘They must’ve genuinely thought so—
that’s why they put out that warning.’
Truth is,
the core claim—that we had to investigate
the source of the cold—
was almost exactly what I’d said before.
If you left dungeonification out of it,
it was basically identical.
The difference wasn’t the message.
It was—
‘The messenger’s authority.’
As an outsider not even formally part of the Association,
my words had no authority.
At best, they carried weight
only with the people at Northern Branch
who’d seen my strength firsthand.
The words I’d spoken yesterday
had persuasive logic, sure—
but with no authority behind them,
they hadn’t gone anywhere.
By contrast—
‘The Legion is different.’
They were simply firing off information
to help save people.
They’d earned experience from it, sure,
and scored various benefits,
but now,
another benefit had emerged.
‘The influence of their broadcasts on other regions
was way bigger than we’d thought.’
There were those who doubted the Legion—
but there were far more
who looked to them as hope.
Even the ones who doubted them
couldn’t deny
that every piece of intel they’d given so far
had been true.
The Legion’s words
had had a massive impact
on human survival in Gyeonggi.
Their words carried—
the authority my own words lacked.
Enough authority that—
“Well then, seeing as there are no objections,
we’ll conclude that each Branch
will gather its forces and resources
and assemble at Southern Branch.”
“Mm. I’ll return to the south immediately
and establish an operation for the raid.”
In no time at all,
everyone had agreed
to target the source of the cold—
a proposal that had been rejected just yesterday.
****
“Haha... damn.
Can’t believe things worked out like this.”
The plan had changed a lot from the original,
but either way, our goal—
getting all the Branches to agree
to investigate the source of the cold—
had been achieved.
Park Junggu muttered, half-amused.
“I was only thinking about forcing it through with brute strength,
and the Legion just goes and persuades them
in a completely different way.”
“It worked out well, though, didn’t it.”
“Mm. Still, I feel bad toward you.
You tried to help us...
and all we did was show you something ugly.”
Clearly,
he was still bothered by the fact
that my proposal had been shot down
in yesterday’s meeting.
“I’m an outsider. It couldn’t be helped.”
Their response had frustrated me so much
I’d considered using cooking—
but now that I’d realized
I’d been in an excessively agitated state
over my family,
[Current Dish Effect Applied]
[Calm-Emotion–]
I was forcing my mind down
by constantly taking “calm” dishes.
‘If I don’t,
I really will sprint straight out past the Wall.’
Once I started thinking in that calmed state,
I could at least understand them.
“Mm...
If the others could see your strength,
they’d never ignore you like that.
Today’s conclusion is basically the same one
you gave yesterday anyway.”
“As you said,
since there was no chance for me
to demonstrate my strength,
it’s only natural they couldn’t trust my words.”
I’d thought the same thing
back when I’d first ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) joined Northern Branch.
Getting people to trust an outsider
wasn’t easy.
If there was anyone in Gyeonggi
who’d look the most suspicious right now,
it’d be me.
“Would you spare me a moment?”
Then,
just as I was thinking that,
someone walked up and spoke to me.
“...General? What business do you have with Youngjun?”
The very man who had methodically dismantled
my proposal yesterday—
Jo Beomseok.
‘Thinking back, there was probably a way
to target this old man too.’
In my agitated state,
I’d never said a word—
but I had once saved him
when he was under attack.
Proving that I was the one who’d done it
would have been the problem, sure—
but if I’d solved that part,
I might have been able to leverage that debt
and somehow persuade him.
‘Excessive agitation is poison
in any situation, after all.’
I’d been so blood-rushed
I’d only thought of solving things through cooking.
While I was mulling that over,
Jo Beomseok looked between me and Junggu
and spoke.
“I’m sorry,
but I have something to discuss with this young man alone.
Junggu, I’d like you to give us a moment...”
“Youngjun is Northern Branch’s guest.
I’m not sure I can just hand him over like that.”
Since he was the one
who’d seen my proposal dismissed,
Park Junggu clearly felt
I shouldn’t be left alone with the old man.
“It’s fine.”
“You...?”
“I’m curious too
what he wants to talk about.”
“...If you say so.”
I didn’t have any real resentment
toward this old man.
After eating the “calm” dish
and thinking it over,
I’d realized his attitude
hadn’t been all that strange.
“Forgive me.
Circumstances are such that
I need to speak with you alone.”
“What kind of circumstances...”
But once we were alone,
what he said to me
was... fairly unexpected.
“Everyone else is suspicious.
Among the humans in Gyeonggi,
you’re the only one I can trust.”
“...Sir?”
“This is my conjecture—
no, my conviction.”
Just a moment ago,
I’d been thinking that if there was anyone in Gyeonggi
who seemed the most suspicious, it was me.
But this old man’s thoughts were...
“Among the humans,
there’s a traitor.”
“...!?”
“A traitor collaborating
with the ‘source of the cold.’”
...very different from mine.
